


Day 8: Breathplay

by Aichi



Series: Kinktober 2020 [8]
Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Blood, Breathplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26947462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aichi/pseuds/Aichi
Summary: The world will be silent.
Relationships: Gastille/Hibino Arte
Series: Kinktober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951588
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	Day 8: Breathplay

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK I FINALLY DID IT I FINALLY WROTE A SHORT ONE
> 
> This is uhhhh just rambly and experimental and not really "sexy" and also actually just a rewrite of something I did a while ago but lost the file (?) apparently.
> 
> If people don't follow me on Twitter you probably haven't heard me prattling on for literal years about my headcanon on how Arte was a willing diffride and leads a Gyze Cult on Earth so, yeah, that's a thing.

There is no air in the void of space, in the empty black abyss that hangs between Earth and Cray where nothing, not even the fabric of reality itself, can reach. Neither, however, is there any need to draw breath; any cardfighter with imagination enough to find their way to that space already has everything they need to survive.

That doesn’t stop Arte from choking as Gastille’s hand closes around his neck.

Two more of the demon’s hands grasp him by the shoulders, holding his naked back flush against Gastille’s chest as bony fingers squeeze tighter, tighter, and Arte arches, writhes without inhibition in his grip. There is no one to see them here but their Lord Gyze, and they revel in service, in reverence to Him, to He who will end all worlds and bestow upon them the glory of _silence_.

Gastille’s scaled cock slides against Arte’s ass, both of them slick and ready, because in this hedonistic place they need no preparation, no precaution. The shaft sinks into Arte’s hole easily and painlessly, and his body welcomes it just as it welcomes the sharpened nails biting into his throat. It fits perfectly, fills him so completely, and there is no doubt that it was made for him; this is their destiny, after all, to unite at the feet of their Lord and carry out His will. It’s no wonder that their bodies belong together.

A fourth hand finds Arte’s own cock, and at the same time, a tail twines around his ankles, holding his legs in place with the strength of steel wire. The hips behind him snap forward, fully sheathing Gastille’s cock in his ass, and the burst of raw, blissful sensation makes the void around them spin with stars. The hand around him jerks in tandem, thin, knobbled knuckles pumping up and down his shaft and building pressure in his abdomen with every stroke.

Moans and cries of pleasure die in Arte’s throat, again and again, until one finally breaks free, a half-choked gurgle that splutters forth like the last gasp of a dying animal.

It's quiet, but the sound is vicious and rending to Arte’s ears, an impossible sin in the emptiness that is their world, and he’s nothing but grateful when Gastile’s claws clench tighter in response. The cry sputters and dies, and nails draw blood from his neck in a rainbow of sharp pinprick wounds. Arte’s mouth hangs open in a vestigial, silent sob, a damp trail of drool running down his chin, the bones of Gastille’s hand clear and sharp against his throat as his avatar’s grip crushes tighter still.

There is no breath in Arte’s lungs; there never was. There is only the void, only emptiness. Only silence.

Still, some instinct in his body _reacts_. It howls, rages silently inside his chest, screams that he’s going to die, and his body bucks and struggles in the demon’s grip. He gives himself over to it without question, lets himself move however his senses will it, and Gastille’s claws rake beautiful red tattoos down his throat and arms to hold him still even as the two of them continue fucking, making their pleasure one with the pain. This, too, is the fate of Earth and Cray and every world in between; their people struggle and suffer, rebel against their fate, but in the end, they too will have no choice but to join the Apostles and their Lord in bliss.

Blood trickles, wet and sticky, down Arte’s arms, patterns of stinging red scores painting an offering to Him. There’s a tightness in his chest, something paradoxically _full_ and yet hollow and empty, an ache that presses up desperately against his throat but can’t stand against the bruising force with which Gastille squeezes his windpipe shut.

The cock inside him hits that perfect place again, starbursts lighting the insistent darkness that wants to close around him despite the unreality of it all. This time, his cries are crushed, crumpled into themselves by the weight of the void before they can even take shape, and ecstasy races across his skin like a rush of pristine, clear water washing away his sins.

He arches into the fist around his cock, and the ribbed edges of Gastille’s knuckles carry him astride his wave of purity, bringing him to the edge and then past it, and the entire time, he bears Lord Gyze’s name on his lips — as a solace and a tribute, never to be spoken aloud.

Arte comes, soundless, in both pledge and prayer:

_The world will be silent._

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like with some of these I'm forgetting to actually appeal to the kink at all but it fills the prompt so. (shrugs)
> 
> Twitter: @cosmowreath


End file.
